Betrayal
by jajenshadimose6012
Summary: Takes place right after "The Man Who Would Be King"-Castiel prays to God for a sign, desperate to know what to do, and he winds up being beamed to where Dean is. They get into an argument and wind up having sex. ;P


"Give me a sign," Castiel called out desperately, as he looked to the heavens, praying to the only God he had ever known for the strength to get through this. Dejection and despair crossed his features when no response came. "Otherwise, I'm just gonna do whatever I must," the angel added, before hanging his head in utter defeat.

God, what was he supposed to do? He was just at a total and utter loss. He had no idea how to handle this, what to do. Everything in his gut was telling him that he had to do it. He had to collaborate with Crowley to bring about free will in heaven, to bring about free will for all. He was so desperate to apply everything that the Winchesters had taught him to life, to his life. By applying those very lessons to heaven, itself, he could change the world—he could better the world by stripping it of destiny and fate altogether.

If there was one thing the Winchesters had taught him—the most important lesson to be learned for all—is that no one can make your decisions for you. You have to do whatever it is that you have to do to fight for what you know to be right. _He_ had to do whatever it was that he had to do to bring about justice and peace and harmony throughout the universe—inasmuch as one former fallen angel could, that is.

And, that was exactly what he was doing. He was fighting with everything he had to apply that very lesson to heaven, to change the natural order and the rules of destiny to abide by that of humanity. And, while Castiel was prepared to do anything and everything he had to do to bring about this new and improved order, there was only one thing that he wasn't prepared to sacrifice, one thing he wasn't prepared to give up…and that was the Winchesters.

He couldn't give up his relationship with the Winchesters. He couldn't give up the role of their guardian that he had taken upon himself. If there was one thing that meant more to him than bringing about free will in heaven, it was the safety of the Winchesters. If giving up on this purpose meant guaranteeing their safety, he would do it in a heartbeat. He wouldn't give it a second thought, he wouldn't hesitate. He would instantly forsake it for them, if it came down to them or heaven. He couldn't lose the only friends he had. He couldn't give up his friendship with Bobby or Sam. And, he couldn't give up Dean.

He _especially_ couldn't give up Dean.

He might have betrayed them by keeping his plans from them all along, but that was never his intentions. He didn't keep it from them to hurt them; he didn't collaborate with Crowley to hurt them. He especially didn't want to hurt Dean. Dean meant so much more to Castiel than he could ever know…and, the angel knew that he meant just as much to Dean. Perhaps that was why his betrayal had hurt Dean so much.

And, that killed Cas. The realization that he had hurt Dean, that he had caused him so much pain with his betrayal…God, it was too much. It was all too much for him to handle. He had no idea where to go from here—he didn't have even the slightest clue as to how to move forward from this point. Not without Dean.

Dean had been his rock, his anchor to humanity. Dean had been the one person that Cas had always admired and looked up to the most. It was because of Dean that Cas had even considered working with a demon…to channel Dean's outlook of life into heaven. To change the rules of the game by applying the rules he had come to know to be true: Dean's rules. Dean had the biggest heart of anyone Cas had ever known, he had an extremely strong will, and the burning need to constantly fight for what he knew to be right. Dean didn't give up on the good fight. He never would. He has had millions of chances to walk away, and he never did. He never could.

Being around someone like that, someone comprised of such strength and such pure goodness…Castiel has aspired to be just like that. He might have played good, obedient soldier initially, but he had his doubts about what was truly right and wrong from day one. And, the day he met Dean, he knew for sure. He knew that in order to do what was right he had to fight the system. He had to band together with the Winchesters to avert the apocalypse and bring about justice and peace on earth. So, he did. And, now it was his turn to bring about justice and peace in heaven, to create the same reality he had come to respect on earth up in heaven. To turn it into the ideal world that he fought with the Winchesters for. To turn into their ideal world. To turn it into Dean's ideal world.

But not at the cost of Dean. If doing this cost him Dean as a friend and a confidant…then maybe he didn't want to go through with it. Maybe it would be better for him to just tell Crowley the deal was off and go back to assisting the boys in their lifelong endeavors to destroy the evil directly in their paths.

Feeling his heart shatter to a million pieces, Castiel closed his eyes and let out a pained sigh. "God, Dean…" the angel choked out, those mere words causing him all the agony of the world.

Before he even realized what was happening, Castiel heard the familiar whooshing sound of his wings flapping. Apparently, God deemed it necessary to beam him somewhere else right now.

Oh, God. Not here. Not now. This definitely had to be a mistake. Castiel had asked for a sign, and this was not a sign. This could not be the sign that he was supposed to receive, it couldn't—

Castiel lifted his head to see…Dean. He was sitting alone in a dimly lit grungy, abandoned room. Well, nearly abandoned. The angel immediately recognized it as Bobby's place, though neither Bobby nor Sam were anywhere to be seen. That realization made his heart twist painfully in his chest.

Dean was surrounded dozens of books, strewn haphazardly about on the table, and tossed around the room—some were open to random pages, while others were closed and stacked in wobbly piles all throughout the room. Dean's head was buried in one of the books, his head hanging in utter despair and defeat, his hands clutching at his head and he was shaking his head slightly from side-to-side. It was almost like he had a horrible headache that he was desperate to get rid of. Never before had Cas seen him looking so utterly distraught and almost heartbroken.

"God, why, Cas?" Dean choked out, those mere words causing him all the agony of the world. He hadn't noticed the angel's presence yet and was wallowing in defeat and pity, much like Castiel had been mere moments ago.

Castiel strode across the room unnoticed and picked up one of the books lying on the table, turning it over so he could study the cover of it. " '100 Ways to Kill an Angel For Dummies'?" Cas read the title aloud, the slightest hint of amusement seeping into his otherwise deadpan voice.

Dean started at the sound of Cas' voice, jumping instantly to his feet and taking on a wary stance, not sure what to expect here.

"Those methods don't really work, you know," Cas informed him, oblivious to Dean's cautious and suspicious nature at work. "This is simply the abridged, modernized version of something that the poet Edgar Allen Poe wrote as possible deaths that he imagined for angels after he was with an angel who wound up breaking his heart."

Not moving from his spot, still eyeing Cas warily, Dean muttered, "Yeah, well, guess I can relate."

Turning his gaze on Dean, Cas ignored the stab of agony that shot through him with those words and set the book back down on the table. "Where's Sam and Bobby?"

Dean relaxed, only slightly, with the realization that Cas hadn't come here for a fight. At least not yet, anyway. "Out looking for ways to gank hell's finest of angels, posing as heaven's poster boy. Now, if you know what's good for you, you better get the hell out of here, you son of a bitch," he warned, before he turned away to go and pour himself yet another drink.

Dean had just downed the drink, grimacing slightly at its bitter taste, when Cas finally spoke. "Dean—"

"Don't," Dean snapped, jerking back around to face the angel. "Just don't."

"No, Dean, please. You have to let me say this," Cas replied.

"You already said it," Dean said, in a low, dangerous voice. "Loud and clear. And, I listened. But, I can't hear this again—I won't."

"Dean, I am trying to make you understand why I have to do this," Cas said, a note of desperation to his voice.

"Oh, I understand, all right," Dean returned. "That you're a liar. And, a coward."

Cas shook his head. "No, it's not true."

"It is," Dean countered. "A year, Cas. A whole year…" Now, Dean shook his head in

disbelief. "…we were here fighting alongside you the entire time, and you didn't say a word. You bastard," Dean spat. "How could you? We trusted you, Cas. We trusted you with everything we had, everything we were. We relied on you more than you will ever know, and you couldn't return the damn favor? What, we weren't good enough for you to confide your trade secrets in or something?"

"No," Cas choked out, averting his gaze from Dean's.

"Then, what, we're incompetent?" Dean suggested. "What was it, huh? What, you didn't think we might have shared a little interest in the fact that you were teaming up with the freakin' King of Hell to bring about your justice for heaven or whatever?"

"No," Cas repeated, in a harder voice. "It wasn't like that. I trust you, Dean. I trust both of you. I just couldn't—I couldn't bring myself to…I don't know, tell you? I didn't think you would understand."

"Well, you're right," Dean relented. "I don't understand. I don't understand any of it. I don't understand why you would choose heaven over us when we were the ones who sacrificed everything for you. We have given so much of ourselves—we have given everything for you—and _you_ turned your back on us. For those sons of bitches who were gunning for us from day one. They wanted us dead. They wanted us to kill each other to save humanity, to save their damn notion of what was supposedly right. And, they wanted _you _dead. You fought on our side, and they hunted you down. Hell, you were number one on their hit list, right next to Lucifer. And, you still chose them over us when we would've given anything for you. What the hell, man?"

"No!" Cas jerked his gaze back to Dean's, fixing him with a hard look. "Dean, I was not choosing them over you. I would never do that—that is not what this was about."

"Then, what was it about?" Dean demanded. "Why couldn't you tell us about this brilliant master plan of yours, hmm?"

"Because, I knew you wouldn't…approve of my decision," Cas stated simply. "I knew that you would've tried to find a way to stop me, and I couldn't…I couldn't have you getting in the way of that."

Dean scoffed, shaking his head angrily. "You're damn right we wouldn't approve of your decision, Cas. Regardless of your motivations, you didn't owe those bastards anything, you understand me? Heaven wanted you _dead_. You had no obligation to them whatsoever. They have no right asking anything of you, or expecting you to be their new Messiah just because their initial one didn't pan out—"

"That's not why I did this, Dean," Cas told him. "I didn't do it for them. It wasn't about them. I did it for you. I meant what I said before, everything I have done—everything that I'm doing now is for you. It's because of you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"I didn't sign on for this to help them…for the sake of helping _them_," Cas practically snarled the word in disgust. "I did what I did to apply everything that you taught me to heaven. I did it to change the celestial ordinances and policies of fate and destiny by applying free will to heaven, itself. Until heaven agrees to stop interfering with human lives, we will always be fighting against our destinies. Free will is everything, Dean; you taught me that. You taught me how important it is, how truly extraordinary it is to have that right to choose…to choose your own fate, to do what you know to be right—to not be manipulated by what the universe has deemed to be your destiny."

Dean was silent for a long moment, contemplating Castiel's words and taking in the true meaning of them. After a while, he shook his head sadly, "And, you couldn't think of anything else? Any other method to fulfill your dreams and bring about your damn free will to heaven? You have to rely on _Crowley_ to do it?" Outrage filled Dean's features, as the full weight of that hit him. "You couldn't have turned to us? You couldn't have asked me and Sam for help? We would've helped you—you know that we would've helped you in a heartbeat, had you come to us."

"There is nothing you could have done for me," Cas told him dismally, hanging his head in shame, hating himself for uttering those words. "You're human, Dean."

"Yes," Dean growled. "As you seem_ so_ keen on reminding me. I'm human. So, apparently that makes me an incompetent, worthless sack of piss, right? Just cause I don't have wings on my person or the ability to zap demons with a wave of my hand…I'm good for nothing."

"No, you're not," Cas immediately said, instinctively moving forward to touch him

before he even realized what he was doing.

Dean staggered back a couple steps, holding his hands out to stop Cas from coming any further. "Don't…touch me, Cas," Dean choked out, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. He cleared his throat before continuing on. "Don't you dare come any closer."

"Dean, please—"

"No!" Dean nearly yelled. "Just no, Cas. I told you already, I don't want to hear it. I'm done. You hear me? I am just done. Do you have any idea what it's like, what it's been like…?" Dean choked up again, and stopped himself abruptly before he wound up breaking down in front of the angel. "I trusted you," he said softly, when he finally spoke again. "I trusted you with everything I had. And, you threw it away like it was nothing. You have no idea how hard that is for me. I trust Bobby and Sammy because they have been there for me my entire life. I don't know anything else but trust when it comes to those two…because they are my family." Dean hesitated only a moment before speaking his next words. "But, you are not my family."

"You can still trust me," Cas said miserably.

"I don't think I can," Dean argued. "Cas, you are the only person outside of my family that I have ever completely entrusted myself to. I mean, I really trusted you. I don't think you fully understand the weight of that. You don't get how big that is for me. So, you can't understand how much this hurts me, how much your betrayal hurts me. 'You can't trust anyone, son'—that's the plain, simple truth that my dad drilled into me since I was four. 'Unless it's family, you can't let anyone in. No friends, no outside connections, nothing. Just family.' But, then you came along, and I realized just how absurd my dad's philosophy was. It wasn't about no friends, it was about finding the right friends. The ones that have your back no matter what. No matter how high the stakes, no matter how the bad the circumstances…they're always there, ready to take the next bullet for you."

"I am, Dean," Cas insisted, taking a bold step forward. "I've got your back; I'm ready to take the next bullet for you. I would give anything to keep you and Sam safe—I_ have_ given everything to keep you and Sam safe. You have no idea the lengths I have traveled to ensure your safety. The strings I have pulled, the connections I have made—"

"Mean nothing," Dean added, before Cas could finish his sentence. "It doesn't matter how far you're willing to go, Cas. That's not the point. You might be willing to die for us, but in the end, that doesn't matter. The point is that you couldn't trust us. You betrayed us. You went behind our backs to work with Crowley—"

"I didn't _do_ it to betray you, Dean. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that." Cas now stood directly in front of Dean, fixing him with a look of such desperation and despair that Dean it was almost like he could literally feel his heart breaking in that very moment. "I am truly sorry for whatever pain I have caused you with what I did, but you have to know that that was never my intention. I don't want to see you suffer such agony, especially not because of me. I wish there was something I could do—"

"There is," Dean said. "You just won't do it. You won't break off the deal with Crowley because you are too damn stubborn and hard-headed…and apparently, Sam and I don't mean anything to you. Otherwise, you would call it off right now simply because we asked you to."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas muttered dejectedly. "I really, truly am. I wish I knew what to…I don't know what to do anymore. I wish I did, but I don't. I don't know if I should go through with this or not. The angel in me insists that this has to done, that it's the right thing to do. And the human in me—the part of me that you and your brother brought to life in me—is so torn. I don't want to do this because I know how much it hurts you. But, that very part of me demands that I do it because I know that, were you in my shoes, this is the exact same call you would make. And, I don't…I just don't know. I hate this so much. I hate all of it. But, more than anything, I hate the way you're looking at me right now." He glanced away in misery and despair, unable to meet Dean's eyes as he spoke his next words. "Maybe you should just kill me."

"Don't!" Dean snapped. "Don't you _dare_ do that. You don't get to play the martyr here, Cas. You don't get to play the tragic hero. You made your decisions—you knew exactly what you were doing—you knew exactly what Crowley was—and you did it anyway. You stabbed us in the back. You teamed up with Crowley and you betrayed us. That was _your_ choice. You could've stopped it, and you didn't. That is _your_ fault. So, don't you dare stand there, acting like we're the ones who betrayed you."

"I'm not," Cas choked out, the words barely audible. "Dean, please. I know what I did. I know that I hurt you. And, I'm sorry. That's pretty much all there really is to say. That's all that I can say."

"So, what?" Dean demanded. "You feel better now? Does that make it all go away? Does it make you feel better about yourself to know that 'you're sorry'? Does it make up for everything?"

"No," Cas admitted. "It doesn't. It doesn't make up for anything. Nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for the pain I've caused you."  
>"No," Dean agreed, a harder edge to his voice now. "It won't."<p>

"But," Cas added, his face taking on a strange quality—one that even Dean couldn't properly identify, "hopefully this is a start."

And, with that, Castiel took Dean's face in his hands and, pressing in as close as he could, he crushed his lips against Dean's in a hard, ardent kiss.

Before Cas could even process Dean's reaction—or rather, his lack of—Dean was jerking out of his grip and shoving him back as hard as he could manage to. It was clearly a sign of Castiel's emotional induced vulnerability that he staggered back at all. Dean then nearly stumbled back himself, practically falling into the wall as he fixed Cas with a hard glare, shock and disbelief flooding his features.

They stood there for a long moment, locked in a staring contest, both of them just staring the other one to say something, waiting for some reaction to ensue on someone's part. Dean was frozen in his shock for a long moment, merely trying to process what had just happened and letting his mind catch up with the rest of his body. Meanwhile, Castiel's expression was one of pure agony and devastation…and Dean could have sworn he caught the tiniest glimpse of desire in there too, but dear God, tell him he was imagining that. That couldn't possibly have been real, could it? Surely, he had just imagined Cas kissing him? That couldn't have just happened….could it?

"Dude," Dean finally stammered out, being the first to break the silence. "What the_ fuck_ was that?"

The agony in Castiel's expression didn't change—if anything, it increased all the more—as he took a reluctant step towards Dean. He had to hold himself back, Dean noticed. Cas wanted more than anything to approach Dean, to comfort him, to reassure him…to do only God knew what to him. The thought made Dean shudder, causing Cas to stop abruptly in his tracks as he tried to take another step forward.

"I told you, Dean," Cas said gently, holding himself back with visible effort. He kept twitching, like his body wanted so desperately to be over there next to Dean that will alone wasn't enough to keep him planted in place. "It was all for you. Everything I did, everything that I'm doing…it is because of you. It is because of the person that you made me to be."

"Uh-huh," Dean said dryly. "And, kissing me falls into that how exactly?"

Will and even the most desperate of efforts proved to be quite inefficient from holding Castiel back. No longer paying any regard to Dean or anything else for that matter, he strode boldly across the room, coming to a stop right before Dean.

"Perhaps you are the one who does not get it," Cas suggested.

"Get what?" Dean demanded, involuntarily cringing away from Cas, not knowing what else to do.

"Why I am really doing this," Cas explained. "Bobby and Sam…they mean a lot to me, Dean, they really do. But, they don't mean as much to me as you do. I can't explain it, but doing this for them is just thousands of years of angelic loyalty drilled into me. But, for you…it's more than that. They're important, but they aren't as important to me as you are. You are just…I don't know. I don't think there's a word for it. No human words that I can think of. Not even Enochian words."

"Well, thank God, I'm not exactly in the mood to have my ears start bleeding profusely right now," Dean said snarkily, relying on his old standby of jokes to ease an uncomfortable situation. "Look, uh, Cas…" Dean laughed nervously, but there wasn't much humor in it. "…you mean a lot to me, too, man. Really, you do. When you're not being an angelic dick, you do anyway. But, uh…" He laughed again and reached up to scratch his neck awkwardly. "…this isn't, uh—we can't ever—you can't mean that you—"

"I do," Cas said simply.

"Okay," Dean said matter-of-factly. "I get it. You are in desperate need of a good lay right about now. Poor guy, you've gone since the beginning of time without ever getting laid—honestly, I'd probably be a little, uh…confused too. But, I'm telling you, it's not—not like this. Not me. Here's what you do. You go to some random bar, you pick up the hottest available chick you can find, you take her somewhere alone—or not, whatever style you dig is cool—and you bang her. Just like that. It's simple—"

"No," Cas adamantly countered. "It's not simple. And, I don't want the…hottest available chick. I don't want anyone, period." Slowly, hesitantly, Cas reached forward and gently placed his hand on Dean's face, almost as if just waiting for Dean to stop him. "I want you," he added, his voice bordering on a strained whisper.

"Cas, you can't mean—"

"I do," Cas repeated, more obstinately this time. "I do, I mean it. Like I said, I can't explain it. I wish I could, but I don't have the words for it."

Studying the angel's face and truly reading the emotion behind it, truly seeing the utter agony and heartbreaking despair that he was undergoing, Dean really saw it. He believed. He could tell, looking at Castiel in this very moment, he could see just what he meant to him. He could see the lingering desire and affection for him underlying and it…hit him in a different way than he expected. He expected to feel revulsion and disgust by the mere concept. He expected himself to just deck him—or attempt to, anyway—and storm out of here. Going to a bar, drinking his problems away, picking up the first chick he happened across. That was how he usually dealt with situations like this when he was stuck in an ordeal he didn't want to deal with.

But, apparently, his body had other plans for him. He felt the all too familiar emotions of desire and longing stirring to life inside of him. How long had it actually been since he had sex? He couldn't even remember. That was nearly unheard of for him. Oh, God. Was he seriously considering this? Did he really want this? What the hell was going on? Why wasn't he walking away? Why wasn't he telling Cas to just go fuck himself and then run off to meet up with Bobby and Sam?

"I think I might," Dean finally said, the words escaping his mouth before he could even bring himself to stop it. And, by the time they were actually spoken, he found himself actually meaning them. He found himself actually really and truly wanting this. Longing for it. Yearning for it. Yearning for him.

Yearning for Cas.

From that moment on, it was almost as if Dean's body had a mind, a will of its own. Like he was merely standing by, watching as his own hands tightly gripped the angel's trench coat and jerking him against his own body with enough force to send them falling back into the wall. Dean's lips came down hard on Castiel's, as he ripped the trench coat off, letting it slide off his shoulders and land in an unruly pile on the floor by their feet. Followed closely by Castiel's tie and shirt...then, Castiel moved to discard Dean of his clothing, tugging his shirt up over his head and tossing it to let it join the rest of their clothes on the floor.

As Dean threw himself even more into the kissing, allowing it to intensify all the more, his hands were soon trapped between their bodies, gliding along the miles and miles of warm skin now exposed to him. His hands slid across the smooth flesh of Castiel's chest, feeling every distinction, reveling in the feel of the slightest rippling of the angel's muscles against the palms of his hands, against his fingertips.

"Cas," Dean murmured against the angel's lips, his voice a low, guttural growl, as Cas instinctively drew him into his embrace. "Oh, God…" Dean choked out, but his words were muffled by Castiel's lips on his once again.

They stood there for a long moment just kissing, enjoying the shared affection between them and allowing themselves to revel in the feeling of being able to have someone to hold in their arms—to have that very person to hold in their arms.

After a while though, Dean proved to be rather impatient, as he abruptly broke the kiss and jerked away from Castiel. At first, Cas misread the sudden movement as rejection and that tortured expression crossed his features once again and he took a small step back. "Dean?" he mumbled, agony seeping into his words. "Do you not want—?"

Dean was too distracted to even notice the reason behind Castiel's words and instead, he shoved the angel to his knees and began working to remove his pants. Dean's hands were fumbling as he tried to remove them, his fingers trembling as he struggled to undo the button and zipper.

He let out a yell of frustration at his uncooperative pants. "Goddamn it," he muttered bitterly, as he finally managed to pull the zipper down. With that freedom, he frantically moved to tug down his jeans, fumbling to step out of them and shove them aside. "Damn it!" he swore again, once he had them discarded, followed immediately by his boxers.

He turned back to Castiel, who was now taking in the sight of Dean's naked body, studying every distinguished line, every contour…he studied the already-hard, glorious length of his rapidly progressing erection with utmost fascination. He regarded Dean with all the admiration and affection of the world, the lingering desire and lust never leaving his eyes.

"Dean…" Cas murmured, seeming to be trapped in a state of wonder and awe. "…you're magnificent."

Dean regarded Castiel with a slightly impatient, yet dry look. "Yes, well, thank you, Mr. States-the-obvious. Now." Dean locked on to the angel's head of hair, and fixed him with a stubborn, insistent look. "You. Blow me. Now."

With that, he directed Castiel's head towards his throbbing erection, shifting slightly so that he could slip his head into the angel's mouth. Castiel stifled a gasp at the feel of Dean entering his mouth, at the first drops of saltiness that had already managed to escaped and were slowly making their way onto his tongue. Confused as to what he was supposed to do, though, Castiel took Dean's words literally, as he so often did.

And, he actually_ blew_ Dean. He didn't start sucking, as procedure generally called for, but he literally began blowing out against Dean's cock, not knowing what else to do.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" Dean gasped out, confusion distorting the arousal etched into his features.

"I'm…blowing you?" Castiel managed to say around Dean's cock, though the words were barely coherent, considering the fact that he had Dean shoved into his mouth and very little room or means to actually form the words.

Dean groaned. "No, dude, you don't actually blow; that's just a…a figure of speech. You're supposed to—" But, Cas had already figured it out and had moved on to start sucking. "—God, suck…oh, fuck, Cas…" was the last coherent thing that left Dean's lips.

Dean shifted his weight against the wall to make it all the easier for Castiel to take him completely into his mouth. Castiel's tongue tantalizingly caressed along the underside of Dean's cock, slowly moving along the rock-hard length of him. Cas urgently wrapped his tongue around Dean's shaft, tugging him even further into his mouth, so far into his mouth that Dean's cock was practically pressed against the back of his throat.

Hot liquid soon came gushing out, pouring out onto Castiel's tongue and flooding the back of his throat with salty goodness. Cas soon discovered that Dean was so big that he had difficulty containing him. He could feel the vibrations of Dean's throbbing erection in his mouth, so much so that he worried that Dean's penis would explode.

Dean's body began to quake and tremble with anticipation and arousal as he moved to thrust himself even further into Castiel's mouth. He began rocking himself back and forth against the wall, eager to have every last of inch of himself in Cas. His orgasm completely overtook him, exploding out of him so that Cas had no choice but to swallow every last drop. Dean began crying out in ecstasy, calling out for Cas and begging him not to stop, not to ever stop. His cries grew and grew until they bordered on screams, as he continued to writhe and thrash.

When Castiel had finished, he released Dean from his mouth, but he wrapped his hands around Dean's cock, not wanting to lose that contact. No matter what the contact was, Cas didn't ever want to let go of Dean. He wanted to remember that feeling. He wanted to remember how it felt to have Dean in his mouth—how it felt to hold Dean's cock in his hands, how it felt to hold Dean, himself, his arms. And, the peace and utter serenity that inevitably came crashing down upon him, plummeting him even further into the delirious seas of transcendental pleasure.

The angel rose to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's as he moved up to reach his lips to his. Their lips met, and Dean could still taste some of his remains on Castiel's lips…oh God. Dean might have had hundreds upon hundreds of girls go down on him before, but this was just…something different. Something new. This was amazing on a whole other level. He couldn't even explain it. The taste of himself on Castiel's lips was almost enough to send his body into yet another orgasm…if only he wasn't already pretty spent and needed some recovery time after their first encounter. Damn it. Damn women and their whole multiple orgasms shit—that was just not fair.

However, since Dean had never had sex with another guy before, he could now do his part for Cas. He never did break their kiss, as his hands now moved down to rid Castiel of the rest of his clothing. Within seconds, Cas was standing there before Dean in all his angelic naked glory. Immediately, Dean's hands moved to wrap around Cas' cock. He began stroking and caressing him, doing everything he could to help the angel's erection move right along. Considering his unfamiliarity with sex, Dean didn't want to push with the vehement aggression that he usually did. He could be sensitive and considerate when he really wanted to, and in this particular instance, he wanted to adhere to Castiel's desires completely. Whatever Cas wanted, whatever Cas was ready for him to do, he would do…but he wanted to make sure he had the okay first.

Dean's eyes were fixed on Castiel, watching every reaction that crossed his features, reveling in the newfound power he held over him. In this moment, Cas seemed to be comprised of nothing but pleasure and delirium. It was like nothing else could exist outside the two of them, and this very moment.

"Dean…" he finally managed to choke out. "Will you please…" He broke off, searching his mind for the expression. He was clearly having even more trouble than usual in this state of arousal. "…suck me?" He settled for that, incapable of remembering the actual term right now.

Dean laughed, though it sounded more like a suggestive growl. "It's 'blow me'," he corrected. "And, as you wish. Spread your legs," he ordered.

With that command, Dean sank to his knees before Castiel. Then, he went on to repeat the very process that Cas had just done to him, taking the angel's cock into his mouth and working the same wonders on him that had just resulted in _his_ orgasm not moments ago.

A soft whimper escaped Castiel's lips as Dean began sucking on him, repeating the same motions that Cas had just done to him, only with much more skill and precision, Cas noticed. "Dean," Cas gasped out, fixing his gaze on Dean's and regarding him with all the awe and wonder of the world. "How do you do that?" he managed to ask. "How do you…make me feel like that?"

In response, Dean just began sucking all the harder, digging his fingertips ever harder into Castiel's hips to keep him from bucking too hard. He had to lock him in place to be sure that he wouldn't accidentally jerk himself out of Dean's mouth with all his thrashing.

"I love you, Dean," Cas murmured before he could stop himself, too caught up in the moment and the endless swarm of emotions that were smothering him in this instant.

Dean didn't respond, considering his mouth was a little preoccupied at the moment, but even when he did finish, he never did acknowledge Castiel's words. All he did was throw himself into kissing him all the deeper, holding him all the tighter…fucking him all the harder. Dean had never been one with the words. He expressed himself with actions, he always had. That was all he really knew to do.

Even when they went on to actually be inside each other inasmuch as they could—first, Dean plunging his cock as hard and deep as he possibly could into Cas' ass, then Cas to Dean…Dean never said a word. He expressed all his emotion, all his affection, with actions: by clinging to Cas for dear life as he held onto him. By worming his way even deeper into Cas, like an all too welcome parasite, so eager and desperate to be inside the angel that he seemed to want to lock himself inside of him.

When they finally finished with everything, they just lie together in each other's arms in an ungainly sprawl on the floor amongst all the clutteredness and books and dust and God only knows what else. Castiel was lying with his head resting against Dean's chest, listening to the soothing sound of his strong, steady heartbeat. God, that sound provided a comfort and solace like none other…

Dean's arms were wrapped around Castiel, his fingertips of one hand gently trailing along the angel's arm. After a long moment of deliberation and consideration, Dean finally cleared his throat. "You know I love you, too, Cas," he said, speaking the words so matter-of-factly and with such certainty that Cas actually lifted his head to peer up at Dean.

"You mean that?" Cas asked, not trusting himself to trust that he had heard that correctly.

"I mean it," Dean said simply. "I just wanted you to know. I didn't do that just because I was pissed and I needed a release—" He cut himself off abruptly before a giving Cas a wry, knowing smirk. "Well…the releasing part certainly was way beyond nice, no doubt. But, that's not why I did it. I did it because…well, because I wanted to. Because I wanted you, too."

"You wanted me," Cas repeated Dean's words, his eyelids sliding shut and a relieved smile crossing his lips.

"Yeah," Dean relented. "I did."

"And…" Cas broke himself off, reluctant to ask his next question, dreading Dean's response. "…do you still—?"

"Yeah," Dean immediately replied, knowing exactly what the question was. "I still do."

Castiel contemplated for a long moment before speaking his next words, weighing his options and trying to decide what was best. "Then, it's off," he replied simply. "The deal with Crowley," he clarified to Dean's questioning look. "Everything. It's off."

"Just like that?" Dean asked, not daring to believe it.

"Just like that," Cas agreed. "Dean, I told you, you are everything to me. You and Sam. And after what just…there's no question about it anymore. You don't want me to do it; well, I won't do it. It's as simple as that. It's what you want."

"Wow," Dean murmured, not knowing what else to say. "That's just…thank you."

"I was having doubts about whether or not it was the right thing to do long before anything happened, long before you even found out," Cas explained. "And now after seeing what it did to…after seeing what I did to you…I can't go through with it. I can't do it. It's just not worth it. You were right, Dean. I don't owe heaven anything. Heaven clearly doesn't want me anymore. But, you do, apparently. And, I know that you are willing to do anything for me, you're willing sacrifice just about anything for me…I owe you my loyalties, Dean. Not them."

Dean hesitated only a moment before speaking his next words. "And, you're not just saying this so you can have your way with me?" he teased, narrowing his eyes at Cas in feigned suspicion.

Cas smiled, the first true, genuine smile Dean had ever really seen on him. He liked it. It was new…different. Like looking at the sun for the first time. "I already had my way with you," Cas pointed out. "If that was my only motive behind this, I would've said that to before we had the actual sex."

"A good point," Dean acknowledged, with a slight nod of his head. "A good point, indeed."

"So, uh, what…" Cas began, momentarily averting his gaze from Dean's as he asked his next question. "…what happens now?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "But I know that I can't wait to find out," he added, as he offered Cas a small smile.

With that, he shifted slightly to bring his lips up to Castiel's once again. Cas immediately returned the kiss and Dean maneuvered so that he could roll them over so he was now hovering over Cas as he continued kissing him. Again and again.

And thus commenced round…five million and one of their sexual encounters…or so it seemed. And, they could only hope that they preceded only five million and one more…and then some.


End file.
